


I'll Sleep When I'm Dead

by Seagoatink



Series: Survival Isn't Pretty [5]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: F/M, Heavy - Freeform, Heavy Angst, Mass Effect 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 00:57:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8600800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seagoatink/pseuds/Seagoatink
Summary: The commander woke feeling absent from her own body. Her nightmares mimicked the havoc and destruction she saw on Earth. She would tell interviewers from news stations that she dreamed of the boy who died on Earth shortly after trying to escape on a shuttle, but the reality was something worse.This was deeper.This was personal.





	

Making the turians compromise for krogan support was easier than getting to sleep. In sleep there were nightmares. In nightmares there was death. Brutal, murderous, killing death, where Cheska was immobile, defenseless, and vulnerable.

She was a mess.

Her lungs felt as though they were being sucked into her stomach. Her heart felt the pull of a black hole in her stomach. Her body was frozen cold. In her stomach lay a vast expanse of a void, tugging at her core, urging it to the doom of the vortex in her center.

The commander woke feeling absent from her own body. Her nightmares mimicked the havoc and destruction she saw on Earth. She would tell interviewers from news stations that she dreamed of the boy who died on Earth shortly after trying to escape on a shuttle, but the reality was something worse.

This was deeper.

This was personal.

Forged front and center into her mind was the image of Anderson. Cracked helmet. Cracked skull. Reaper brute above him. Cheska remembered being trapped under cement blocks, unable to move from her pinned down position. Her drone busted. Her sentry turret long since destroyed. No defense drone to speak of.

The sound of cracking bones echoed in the empty cabin. Empty save for her, her fish, and her model ships.

The admiral she fondly thought of as a father figure was not the only one to meet his savage end in her dreams, if they could be called that. Mordin’s death was fresh in her mind as well. In reality, he had made his own amends for the genophage personally, but in her slumber she saw something that differed far from reality.

Cheska pushed the thought away.

Mordin died on his own terms. He died in a way he saw most fit. That was what mattered.

_“You must be exhausted, Mordin dying. It can’t be easy.”_

_“I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”_

_“We both know you need a clear head to win a war. There’s no room for mistakes here. You should catch some shut eye. Besides, I know where you sleep. I’ll wake you if anything comes up.”_

_“If you insist.”_

Why had she said that? Waking felt worse than trudging through exhaustion. Existing after nightmares where everyone was brutally torn apart in front of her as she lay helplessly under slabs of concrete that surely would have fractured her femur was the furthest thing from what she wanted to do.

The worst part was that none of these feelings and none of these nightmares were new to Cheska. She had had them since Mindoir was attacked by batarian slavers.

After Akuze they popped up again.

Even after dying herself and being revived through Cerberus’ Lazarus Project, she had the nightmares.

Each time, they played through her head like a broken record. These dreams that were hers played even when she closed her eyes. How was Cheska supposed to shut out her own mind? There was not a way and there never was a way.

As she walked toward her desk to check the time, Liara entered the cabin.

The commander jumped.

It was poor timing, but a welcome distraction for the destruction of her nightmares. Still, the heaviness in her chest stayed, no matter how deep Cheska breathed in. It stayed. Much unlike water in the lungs she could not cough it out. It stayed and the weight made itself at home.

When Liara left, Traynor welcomed herself in. Then Diana Allers entered for an interview.

It was as though they had all lined up, hoping to have a moment of Shepard’s time. Or maybe they knew and they wanted to provide a welcome distraction. If that was so, then Liara had a very grim method of interrupting loss with the preparation for failure of the entire galaxy.

Cheska hardly trusted her own voice and decided against calling Garrus to her quarters. Who knew if he was calibrating defense cannons or at their galaxy map making plans of attack with Primarch Victus. Whatever he was doing, she did not want to chance anyone hearing the waver in her voice. Her only option was to message him and hope he understood the urgency.

As she waited for a reply in return or a turian at her door, the commander curled up in her blankets on her bed. Her pillows provided a decent nest wall and her blanket really offered some extra comfort. It was not much, but Cheska was going to take all she could get for the moment.

When Garrus did finally enter the cabin, he found Cheska on her bed silently sobbing in shambles buried in her bedding. “You look like you need a drink, Shepard.” He did not like how that sounded, but what else was there to say.

“Thanks,” croaked the commander. 

“That,” Garrus stopped himself. The last thing he wanted to do was let his poor wording dig his grave before the reapers could put him in it. “I take it you got some shut eye,” he said, swallowing the lump in his throat.

She sat up, still bundled in her blankets. Cheska loosely held a pillow to her chest as her dead, empty eyes stared up at him. “Yeah, I feel a lot better,” she admitted. Her voice was low and gravely, but she sounded sincere.

“Oh?”

“You’re my boyfriend and we’re in war times. You’re filling shoes similar to mine. Garrus, I’m not going to lie just to make you feel better. As much as I want to sometimes, I’m not going to do that to you,” Cheska replied before inhaling deeply and unevenly. Using the blanket in her arms, she wiped away the wetness from her face. “Sure, I had shitty nightmares, but I did get some sleep.”

“Oh,” Garrus said, sitting down at the foot of her bed. He was relieved she was so honest with him, but at the same time he wished he had some insight. Vega helped a bit, but as Shepard had pointed out before, Vega was not her type. The turian would not be surprised if James’ well meant advice would earn him a punch in the face, at least from Commander Shepard. “Do you want to talk about it?” He wondered. If there was one thing he knew well, it was nightmares.

The commander shook her head. She sniffled again. “I don’t want to depress you any more than necessary, Garrus… But when all of this is done and we’ve won the war, I might have to lean on everyone a little more,” Cheska admitted. She let out a heavy sigh. Then she yawned. “I just need to sit with you for a bit. Gotta remind myself that people still care.”

Garrus took the human into his arms and she did her best to smother him in the blankets with her. “I’m more than happy to provide such a reminder,” he replied.

“Thank you, Garrus,” she muttered as she latched onto him.

**Author's Note:**

> My ride can't make it this week and I'm dealing with heavy as all Hell flashbacks. I decided what better time to write this fic when I'm going through the same damn thing as Cheska right now.


End file.
